K day + 17 years, somewhere on the other side of the portals, 2nd Brazilian Imperial Army, 6th Division, 26th Armored Brigade sectorial fire base.

We’ve taken over an old castle. This place was completely abandoned and overgrown with vegetation, cobwebs and some very nasty giant critters. It took us a whole week to wipe it clean, then we brought the engineers and the trucks and made it our home. The castle is big, it’s one of those fortified mansions you hear about, now it serves a new lord, also called a brigadeiro.

The region around it is similar to African Afghanistan, kinda like a desert but with lots of vegetation, although the population of rocks far outnumber the veggies.
The castle and it’s buildings have tall hollow towers on top of them, supposed to catch the wind and turn it down to ventilate the building, it looks beautiful.
 
The walls are made out of yellowish grey and now overgrown bricks, a big centralized building lays against one of the walls, that’s the four story mansion, the core of the base and where the kitchen and the officer’s barracks is located, some small towers creep out of the top of it they aren’t like the ventilation towers these were part of the mansion’s rooms that also acted as architectonic decoration, we modified one of these rooms to become a anti air radar center, it’s radar dish is like an invasive implant on the medieval style architecture
Along with this mansion there’s a stable and a two story building with a mess hall and enough space for a medium sized barracks and large storehouses, all in the same building. All this was built around a nice central courtyard with a well in the middle. It's quite spacious; a small chapel was built on the mansion’s first floor dedicated to Saint Jorge and Maria Aparecida.


We turned the mansion into our HQ, the stables were completely rebuilt into a place for storing ammo, fuel, supplies and a triage site. We reinforced the roof with sandbags and extra wooden pillars.

The walls have towers built into them so the guards can rest and take cover from the rain. The top of these towers is open so we installed anti air guns on them, quad arapongas just like the old flakvierlings but in 25mm, getting them up there was quite hard, we had to make a small rope elevator then move it around to get a m55 maxson mount on each tower, the maxson’s have two 25mm arapongas on them, some towers got Ogunhe cannons and sniper teams on them, same caliber as the araponga, but magfed instead of beltfed and based on a Flak gun instead of a Rheinmetall autocannon, every platoon has a sniper teams and every company has a AT sniper team, the best sniper teams of the best brigades receive COBRA advanced fire control system, a combination of laser rangefinder, thermals and fire control, you can also attach a tactical video compressor to it, so you can transmit the image to other units, specially useful for directing artillery fires, that’s how we’re using them each sniper team will cooperate with a mortar battery placed on the walls.

There’s a field workshop on the courtyard, one of those container trailers that can emplace themselves and come with all the tools and equipment needed for maintenance and small repairs we just had to bring it here by truck, we have some vehicles under the tarps by it, waiting for their time on the workshop or just escaping the sun and rain.
The workshop we have on the courtyard is just for the smaller vehicles, the big one is outside the walls, actually, most of our installations are outside the walls. We built trenches and bunkers we layed barbed wire and planted mines. tents and tarps litter the arounds of the castle, like a squatter camp, a heavily armed and fortified squatter camp with lots of artillery positions and tanks all pointed towards the north.

a maze of trenches extends towards the north, adorned by hull down Osorios in artillery positions, each osorio positions has a small ramp dug into the dirt so it can achieve maximum elevation, close to the frontline trenches there’s APCs and IFVs Charruas with 25mm cannons, some are equipped with low pressure 90mm cannons their canister and white phosphorus rounds saved a lot of our boys.
This defensive line stretches for kilometers over a single flank, to the south there’s our landing pads, a dirt strip for planes and some helipads, along with a dirt road that leads down to a Imperial regional capital, not a Brazilian city mind you, it’s from a big empire here in this land we’re just leasing some of their land for these battles, technically.

It sounds like we’re a force to be reckoned with, well we should but the enemy is bent on breaching through our perimeter, they come through a valley to the north pouring down like water, their numbers are impossible to count, zombies, demons, flying aberrations and all kinds of abominations from 3 foot to 10 foot tall, they’ve coming against us for this last month, we’re the rear guard, without us the main line will be surrounded, the enemy knows that and hates us for it.

Blood and mud became our life and our glory, all rocket batteries were sent to the front line, the demand for them is just too high so now all we got is the brigade’s 105 and 155 batteries along with the tanks and IFVs, you’d think it’s enough until you have to face the golems or stop a moving stampede of rhyno-like beasts, or deal with a cloud of undead wyverns, or deal with the dreams, the voices or deal with your own men that lost their minds to their mind controllers.

My name is Corporal Alisson and today I'll tell you what happened in Olympia.

It was a nice Monday afternoon. We were supposed to receive some new equipment and personnel via air lift today. I was part of the welcoming party aka the mules. We had some 1,5 ton marrua jeeps, the ones we used to transport anything below a 105mm gun. We would fill it with ammo. We were waiting on the dirt strip for a transport helicopter to bring us what high command promised ammo for our mortars, shells for our guns and medicine for our wounded, music was coming from one of the jeeps. One of the soldiers pumped the volume up as we waited for the supplies.

https://youtu.be/li0GoTYJoa4

The sun was beating down on my face, the air was hot and uncomfortable, no wonder no one volunteered for this, well except me, the others were here because their sergeants wanted a convenient way to punish them.
Fortunately for my situation I had a camo cap on me, it was soft and was a bad fit but it kept the sun away from most of my hair and eyes so I was thankful for it.

The sound of powerful engines echoed from a distance.
It’s our guy, an old CH37 Mojave helicopter making its way towards firebase Olympia, one of our lifelines.
These helicopters were bought by Brazil back in the 80s, a very bad decision. The helicopters were expensive to operate and the climate sapped away most of their potential engine power along with giving it lots of maintenance necessities, for America in Vietnam it wasn’t that bad, for Brazil? It was too bad.

It came closer and closer down to the strip, kicking up clouds of dust as it approached, landing like a majestic bird down on the strip and opening its front ramp and revealing it’s cavernous entrails filled with boxes.
The pilot gave us a thumbs up as the engines were turned off, so we wouldn’t have to breathe dust and rock while unloading the flying higgins boat.

In the 90s Brazil had two choices, retire and scrap the old and inefficient mojaves, or somehow find a way to modernize them.
Helibras wanted to have a try at it. They were the first to propose ideas for it’s modernization, although it didn’t manage to persuade the army which was bent on scrapping the poor Mojaves.

The honor of convincing the army to do something with the old beast came from Operation Traira, a border skirmish against Colombian guerrillas where the Mojave played center stage role transporting a lot of material upriver this stroke the creativity of the commander of the first jungle brigade who petitioned for a heavy cargo helicopter to compliment the heli-brigades mobility, this spiraled and after some years helibras was asked to produce a prototype of the modernized mojave, they teamed up with Embraer and set up two turbine engines on the mojave in place of the old radial engines which gave it similar performance to more modern helicopters, this all came with new modern avionics for the Mojave 2, as it was called, making it a formidable machine although this won’t stop the ignorant from calling it ugly and obsolete.


We took box by box out of the mojave into the jeeps, ammo first, weapons second and medicine last, when it was finished our backs were hurting and the sun was a bit cooler. We boarded the now filled jeeps and made our way back to the castle, the castle was a sight to behold, it’s walls were towering and overgrown with green vines, we moved below it’s shadow, like a string of worker ants.

Around us the tents and dirt paths around them,we stopped at a crossroad, soldiers moved about, platoons did PT together running around the firebase while singing. But the true reason we stopped was because we just reached the surroundings of the motorpool and just on time to see a Osorio P1a1 tank tread forth compacting the mud and dirt as it moved forward,  a 25mm Araponga was fixed to the top of its main gun along a large ammo casket holding the belts and  a dozer blade was mounted in its front. a Brazilian flag was fluttering above it, this tank was a veteran of many battles.

After the road was cleared we continued on our way to the inner courtyard of the castle, we had to wait at the gates, the soldiers on top of the walls saw us and yelled down for the gates to be open, we waited patiently as the heavy wooden and metal gates creaked themselves slowly open.

The driver on my jeep lighted a cigarette, not a normal tobacco and industry one, this one was made with a native flower turned into a fine powder then smeared on a fine thin fabric then paired with a filter, they are pretty expensive but they are good, smell way better than the normal cigarettes i’m accustomed to, his lighter clacked back into place and the white smoke from the cig lifted up from the open topped vehicle.
Just on time for the gate to open.

Light came from the other side of the gate like an open invitation to us, the jeeps moved forth reaching the stone tiled courtyard we parked by the stables and began unloading them.

The sound of turbines and rotors echoed as we saw the same mojave that brought us supplies leave, we are on our own again.

Dark clouds began to converge above us, rain, the bearer of bad fortunes and long sieges, a storm always comes just before their vanguard hit our lines, they use the fog and bad visibility to try and get an edge on us, and sometimes a thunderstorm is used against us the lighting strikes are pretty accurate and usually start fires and kill some of our mortar teams, we had to build counters for that erect the tallest metal poles we could find around the castle and trenches and build overhead cover for the trenches, to make sure it wouldn’t turn to mud so quick.

We stopped by the stable and everyone began moving on the double as the sirens began screaming and men began running around with rifles in their hands. I had to move back to my squad, the jeeps were abandoned as they were but not before I took my LAPA 2 rifle from the passenger’s seat.
The latest development in weaponry in Brazil and maybe in the entire world, the classic LAPA rifle, modernized with a new bolt derived from the G43 and MAG, IA2 green furniture with picatinny rails and a lower carrying handle similar to the ones in the newer Famas, I got a guara holographic sight attached to it, it kept me alive through this campaign.

Rain started falling as I sprinted my way out of the courtyard through the gates, water was pouring hard down on us, the dirt was turning into mud and the sound of thunder could be heard echoing in the skies, like great hammers slamming against an anvil.

Waves of green camouflaged men ran their way down the muddy road towards the trenches, some were holding their chest rigs, they didn’t have time to put them on.

The sirens stopped replaced by a loud static noise that echoed from all around the camp and castle, the speaker system we set up could also be used to play music, the commander set up a recording room inside the mansion and assigned our musical band to it, in case of combat they would play their songs spilling their art and sound all around the base during the battle, it was a nice touch, the commander could control not only our destinies and positions but also our hearts like that, the band had access to all kinds of instruments there and they would play all kinds of things, they always started with a classic waltz, the static noise got louder as my feet impacted on the cold mud while i made my way to my platoon’s sector.

“Gentlemen!” A low masculine voice echoed, like a rock in the middle of a turbulent river. 

A black cloud of flapping wings and greyish matter started coming down on us from inside one of the storm clouds, the AA guns started firing, tracers filled the sky.

“The God of the armies calls you forth to the sacred peleja, with you marches the will of our beloved emperor, the will of our people, clutch your rifles and brace your hearts, We will prevail.” The commander spoke calmly but a fiery passion burned through his voice, it was followed by static that then turned into music.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=E-JHVnehtWw

The yellow tracers filled the black sky, the cloud moved as one and died as one black bony matter was seen being tore apart from the mass, and then some smaller clouds began to generate, like black tentacles they made their way around flanking the walls of the castles these same tentacles then began to divide themselves into individual units, one of those was coming towards me while i was in a hellbent sprint towards the trench system entrance.
It looked humanoid, but had demonic bat-like wings and no flesh on it’s bones, except for a pulsing matter below it’s grey chest cavity, the eye sockets were hollow, the mouth was filled with sharp teeths disjointed into the form of a smile, black goo was seen escaping from this orifice. It didn’t have any legs, the thigh bones were the only remainder of what were the primary propellers of this body, it’s arms were turned into claws and sharp bone blades, it moved with a ballerina like synchronism, trying to dodge individual shots from the autocannons at the same time as it tried to flank the gunners and assistant gunners.

This one was bent for me, i held the lapa with a single hand and aimed it at its general direction then pulled the heavy trigger, like one of those bad dreams where the trigger seems to be heavier than lead but this time it was a deliberate mechanism designed to make sure you wouldn’t have a accident with it.

The black flying skeleton was hit by a burst of 7,92x45, some of it’s bones were pulverized and it’s wings were tore out of its body, the rifle recoilled wildly in my wrist i had to grit it through and the bolt bounced back and forth against my biceps.
it screamed like a banshee as it fell down in the mud, it’s voice echoed like a knife in my ears, I should have brought earplugs…

“All tanks, open fire, heavy explosive load, point Alpha Tango half, enemy concentrations have been spotted!” The commander’s voice echoed on the speakers. “105s and 120 mortars are to target point Bravo Whiskey 3, heavy explosive”

I finally reached the trenches, the AA guns kept firing. The Arapongas effectiveness should never be doubted, especially if it’s firing the flechette loads.
My boots were smeared to the top with mud, the trench had wooden pallets for flooring and corrugated metal walls, it was around 1.80 meters tall.

The tanks began firing, the flash of their guns contrasted with the thunder and lighting around us, like a counterforce we were imposing ourselves in this terrible storm in the only way mere mortals can, explosive action.

“You are armed with the weapons and armoring of Saint Jorge, no evil can touch you, no evil can reach you, ease your mind and make peace with the Almighty, be not afraid for those that fight against evil have a reserved place besides Jesus and the Lord” His voice was like a spirit that permeated the battlefield, passionate and fiery.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gwpAyE6MnRs Began playing.

I sprinted through the muddy trenches, my boots sounded on the wood, the trench itself was deserted save for some rats and other soldiers running in different directions, probably in the same situation as me.

I finally reached the frontline trenches. Lots of soldiers were here, crouched and sat against the trenches. There was overhead cover over us, illuminated by precarious lamps. My squad was assigned a bunker. I had to reach it before the enemy vanguard reached us.

The sound of artillery fire became part of the environment along with the thunder and the rain, it was like we were part of a hyper realistic painting, our pains and glories translated and amplified through the lenses of a passion filled artist.

I reached the concrete bunker assigned to my squad.
 9 men were cramped in it, our machine gunner was gripping his Uirapuru and his assistant was sweating over a long belt of 762x57 ammo, the others were sitting around praying or appreciating the music.
The sergeant was looking through the firing ports using binoculars.

“Alisson, you’re up, get the Ariranha launcher and Mario and climb up to your firing positions, focus on enemy golems and boomers” The sergeant ordered while keeping his eyes down range.

I looked for Mario, he was black as coal and hard to see in the dark, but I could see a burly silhouette holding Ariranha clips looking at me. I reloaded my LAPA slapping a new 30 round magazine into the well and took the 4 barreled launcher by the sling. Mario smiled and followed me right behind as I moved towards the steel ladder placed at the rear of the bunker.

“Took you long enough Alisson, did you find a girl or something?” Mario said with a laugh as he slapped my back.
“Nah, everyone’s know there’s no women in the zone, and if there were I would have already fathered 10 children.” I laughed it off as I climbed the ladder to the top of the bunker , a green tarp was installed on top to keep the rain out, the assertive sound of rain hitting the tarp was like a greeting to a different world.
“Hah, tell me about it, if I had the opportunity I would have already sired a full platoon” Mario joked as I reached the top.
I pulled him up and one of our squadmates threw ariranha clips up towards Mario and Mario began stacking them up like bricks on the side of the rooftop.

The Ariranha is a four barreled 60mm rocket launcher, it fires rocket thrusted 60mm mortar shells, we have access to lots of specialized rounds, like beehives, white phosphorus, flare illuminators and of course High explosive, the rain is too strong to use white phosphorus or flare illuminators, we will have to eyeball it using the normal magnification sight, our main targets are the golems, shield bearers, mike mikes, boomers and anything else, on that order, we have our own killzone and designated firing zone.

Blood curdling screams, artillery, rain and thunder all became one in this bellicose symphony we were participating in. The lightning illuminated the land followed by the assertive hammering of the thunder, I could see silhouettes in the distance, a wave of monsters of all shapes and sizes, marching towards us.

“Osorios, cease fire and depress the guns to ground level, FIRE AT WILL!” The commander’s voice yelled out from the speakers.

“INFANTARIA! this the biggest offensive yet, the gates of hell have opened and you will close it back, fight to the end, yield not a centimeter of ground to those disgusting hordes, fight to the end and die like heroes, make Sampaio proud!”  The commander’s voice echoed like thunder through the trenches and battlements, men began moving up to firing positions and the tanks and IFVs began firing.

“Fire controllers, you are free to direct the mortars i want to see those barrels melt!” His voice sounded along the firing of mortars.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7rPfkl8-pcY&t=74s Began playing as soon as he stopped.

The horde screamed as they charged forward like a single form, stretching along the horizon, our cannons and machine guns opened fire, their yellow tracers racing to meet the horde and hitting the black mass of contorted abominations. 
Their corrupted flesh was gibbed, destroyed, pulverized and all the other gory synonyms associated with heavy firepower and mortal flesh, the flashes and sounds of the explosions joined together with the thunder and lightning, and were soon joined by the infantry individual’s weapons as the horde stretched ever closer. 
We are forbidden from using full auto, only semi auto to make sure every bullet counts, short bursts for HMGs and MMGs.

I opened the Ariranha launcher, folded the sights and grips up and laid it down on my shoulder. The Ariranha is made out of plasteel and is very light for its size and firepower, it’s used to supplement platoon firepower.
The rain was still heavy and the wind was beating down towards the east, I had to take that into account. Thankfully the projectiles were relatively light and are rocket propelled, even though they are 60mm mortar rounds they pack enough punch, enough power.

“Mario, Hotel Echo!” I yelled out as Mario attached a HE clip to the back of the launcher, he slapped my head upon finishing the act.
“KILL KILL KILL!” Mario Yelled.

Through the sights I could see some tall figures, hulking around, their arms and shoulders were massive, a priority target for sure either a mike mike or a golem, we’ll find out when the projectile hits.
I connected the target to my sights. The distance is  around 125 meters, wind is around 9 KM hour to the east, rain is heavy, air is cold, I took this all into account as I aimed.

“BACKBLAST CLEAR!” I yelled and waited a few moments,then depressed the trigger while keeping the hulking mass in my sight, a flash followed by a boom and a tchunk sound screamed as a round was being shot off the barrel and the thruster ignited as the rocket was sent flying forth towards the target.

I missed by a few inches, a simple problem to be reckoned with, I corrected my aim and pressed the trigger again.
*boom, tchunk*
Direct hit, it was a mike mike, a muscular gorilla like mound of flesh and bone, the flesh was turned into gore and the bones were turned into fragments killing a few of the nearby zombies and creatures around it in the explosion.

“Alisson, two on clock, one of those gorillas!” Mario alerted me and I swung my launcher towards his coordinates.
The machine gun in the bunker below us began firing, individual rifles followed right after it.
“Fuckers are getting close, do it quick Ali!” Mario screamed as he aimed his LAPA 2 rifle towards the wave.

Another mike mike, this one is angry and moving towards the trenches, running over the other zombies hell bent on killing the men there.
He’s fast, I'll have to lead the round and fire a burst.

“Prepare to reload… BACKBLAST CLEAR!” I yelled as I pressed the trigger down two times in rapid succession.
*Boom, tchunk, boom, tchunk*

Scrapping hit, direct hit the roid monster turned into a flash, and exploded into a cloud of gore.
The music stopped playing, replaced by the ominous scream of the sirens, along with the word GAS, GAS, GAS , GAS.

I hoisted my launcher down on the floor and reached for my S-10 gas mask, slapping my cap off my head and putting it on my face, i felt a vacuum stealing my breath away, i forgot to open the filter, feeling as if i was about to die out of breath i quickly reached for it and ripped it off, throwing it away to the side.

I looked behind and saw Mario, now in a similar gas mask, nodding and pointing towards the encroaching horde, a green fog surrounded them, it cared naught for the strong wind and moved towards us like a ferocious beast, a beast made of toxic gas as big as the sky above us.

I made the sign of the cross and then reached for my launcher, putting it over my shoulder.
“They are almost here, load…” I took a second to think what would be the best ammo for this situation, my voice “LOAD HIVE, LET’S SHOOT THOSE BASTARDS AWAY!”
“CERTO!” Mario responded as he reached for a clip and inserted it into the rear of the launcher.

The fire from the autocannons turned the horde into mush as they advanced, tumbling down and dying on top of the gore and bones, but no matter how many shots were fired and how many of them died they still kept coming, they are almost at the frontline trenches.
Mario slapped the back of my head, giving me greenlight to fire.

I pressed the trigger, sending a 60 mm rocket above the enemy. The shell exploded mid-air in a flash sending flechettes down below and piercing many of them. 
I repeated the act three more times, creating miniature suns with each explosion, the flechettes falling like rain on top of those bastards.

I looked around and could see similar scenes repeating in multiple sectors, autocannons and explosives illuminating the cruel night as the green unholy gas creeped closer, my heart accelerated. I felt an overbearing fear overtaking me, we won’t be able to stop them, they keep coming, the ground is covered in bodies and crimson gore, i can see the red glow of the barrels at a distance, the artillery keeps screaming the storm keeps raging but they keep coming, they keep coming and coming their faces distorted and corrupted, their pitch black eyes, their bony protrusions, their sharpened unnatural teeths, their abominable mutations, the hate in their faces.

“Alisson, Golem 1 o’clock, loading HEAT!” Mario woke me up from it, I aimed the launcher trying to find the target. a small sized brown rock golem, armored shocktrooper, anything below 25 mm is useless, you need to destroy his heat, his torso otherwise he will keep coming. His head was circular, his body was angled in multiple confusing directions, like some modernist painting, but it moved and killed.

Mario loaded a new clip and slapped my cap.

I shot the four rounds in quick succession, it was hard to aim with the gas mask on, and I wanted to end this quickly. The rockets hit their mark, the golem was destroyed, it’s body exploded in multiple fragments, but the green fog was getting thicker and I wasn't able to see much after that.

The speakers turned on, at first ear breaking static was heard but then Commander’s voice was heard.

“The lost sentinel does his job unconcerned about his tragical and hopeless situation, he does it because a huge burden rests upon his shoulder a glorious burden, the glorious burden each and every one of you is carrying right now, YOU DO NOT HAVE PERMISSION TO RETREAT, DO NOT DISHONOR YOUR UNIFORM.”  His voice echoed through the green mist, speaking from the high castle with all the authority of the officer caste. His words were like a searchlight in the heart of despair, something to ground us in the solid foundation of courage and commitment our ancestors held so dearly, the fear was gone.


Screams and firing echoed from the trenches around our position, but the fog was too thick, I could not see 50 meters in front of me.

“Mario, load flechette!” I yelled and held the launcher tight on my shoulder “load it and let’s get back inside the bunker.” 
“Aye aye, my king, this situation is creeping me out, wish i had my aunt’s prayer book with me right now” Mario asserted as he loaded a clip in the launcher.
“Gotta be some very braba prayers to keep evil of this caliber away” I responded as I took the launcher off shoulder and began to fold the clip, grip and sight in.
“My dear auntie was able to keep all evil away, she was the terror of the Umbanda guys in my neighborhood, hahahaha.”  He responded with a hearty laugh and we began to move towards the ladder hatch.
We climbed down to the bunker, the atmosphere was completely different, the air was hot and the men were anxiously expecting to be overrun at any moment, the machine gunner was chasing shadows and shooting towards the mist, the tracers were like fireflies.

Everyone had a gas mask, of all shapes and sizes, there’s no standardization in the Brazilian army, if it fits a NATO 40 mm filter it will be bought and used.

The dark bunker was illuminated by a solitary lamp, one of those old ones, it flicked with each artillery impact.

“If only we had the divisional artillery here…” The sergeant said with a pensive tone.

Shooting and screaming raged from the left, beyond the bunker doors.

“Sector 14-A reporting: Possible infiltration to our west, over” Our radioman said over the phone.
“High castle to Sector 14-A” A voice came from the radio speakers, autocannon fire and yelling could be heard in the background “You are to find the source of infiltration and neutralize it, our lines cannot be permeated! High castle, out.”

“Corporal Alisson, get your fireteam and deal with it!” The sergeant ordered and pointed to the west door of the bunker.
“Yes sir” I said and began to round up my men and move to the door.

Mario was with me alongside 2 other men.

I opened the door and was greeted by a line of men in firing positions along the trench, some meters down there was a wounded man being tended by a medic, we moved towards him.
His left arm was ripped clean off. He was holding his guts in, while the medic was holding a Imbel 1911 pistol.

“Doctor, where’s the culprit?” I asked him
“Bone head, tried to kill this one and moved further in, probably going to the castle. I’ll have to euthanize this poor lad the gas will enter through the wounds, kill him slowly turn him into one of those monsters if given the opportunity” The doctor said through his M40 gas mask, keeping his eyes on the dying soldier and sighing as he switched the safety and pointed the gun to the moribund’s head.

“In the name of the Son, the Father and the Holy Spirit, amen.” We all said in unison while doing the sign of the cross, the medic pulled the trigger, ending the soldier’s suffering.

We began moving towards the mansion hunting for the Bone head, a type of mutant known for his acrobatic skill, endurance, strength and perseverance as well as it’s sharp claws and lack of human skin. Real scary shit, it’s said that they eat their own skin piece by piece during the mutation.

We moved trench by trench, seeing the signs of death, suffering and fighting wherever we went. We were expecting an ambush from the bone head at any moment.
We kept wafting through the mud, rain, thunder, gunfire, artillery… it all became a single overwhelming sound in our ears, clouding our souls in it’s desolate esplendor, powering us through the fear and inhumanity of the fight around us. 
The gas wasn’t so dense here, our visibility wasn’t so bad.

The mansion was in our vision, the guns that inhabited it’s walls made themselves seen the only way they know how: firepower. Firepower was the only word that could describe the fire that spewed out of those walls, the 25mm tracers illuminated the night like lasers.

A blood curled scream echoed through the firepower, we stopped and looked up, a muscular shadow jumped through the dark sky towards us, screaming like a hateful banshee as it did.

Soldier Pedro was the first to respond, he fired his LAPA 2 towards the shadow on the sky as it moved closer and closer towards him. He was pounced by the bloody skinless beast, his guts were slashed open in a single powerful move fast like a knife. All this before we could properly respond, but we responded, we all fired our weapons on this former human beast, it’s muscles were lean and hard pulsing with each heartbeat, the cranium and joints were visible, there was absolutely no resquices of human skin in its body.

With each shot blood was spilled out of its body, the beast screamed like a banshee as it’s life was being shot out of it piece by piece.
When it’s body finally fell down on a pool of its own putrid blood, corrupted flesh and our former rifleman we couldn’t help but let out a breath, not a triumphant one but a tired drawn out one, how could we feel any other way when we lost one of our own and the battle still raged around us?

The rain stopped, the artillery stopped, the music stopped, the thunder was heard one last time as the gas dissipated and the guns began to stop their howling, the night was held back the castle and the division survived. Sampaio would be proud.